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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27302386">Don't Leave Me Hanging</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/for_the_love_of_wolves/pseuds/for_the_love_of_wolves'>for_the_love_of_wolves</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020 [14]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, But he doesn't want to show it, Chris gets bitten, M/M, Rescue, Torture, Werewolf Chris Argent, Worried Peter Hale</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:27:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,112</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27302386</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/for_the_love_of_wolves/pseuds/for_the_love_of_wolves</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris is captured by hunters and tortured for helping werewolves. They leave him for dead. Rescue comes too late. Or does it?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chris Argent/Peter Hale</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020 [14]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949101</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>160</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Don't Leave Me Hanging</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for Whumptober Day 31: Left for dead.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was a time when Chris was certain he would be killed by a “monster” one day. Most hunters don’t grow old. It took only a few months for Chris to collect an impressive collection of silver scars, and he knew he wouldn’t die old either. One day, a hunt would go wrong. Maybe it would be a Wendigo. But most probably a werewolf. </p><p>Now, dangling from the ceiling of a basement, he isn’t that surprised that he will be killed by human monsters instead. </p><p>Much has changed since he was young and still believed every word his father said. Chris has changed. For this group of hunters that came to Beacon Hills to “tidy up”, he is an enemy. Because Chris decided to see behind Gerard’s hate. Because he decided to help Scott, Derek and the others. Because he once fell into bed with a werewolf, because he ended up with a bite mark in the neck, marking him as mate for days.</p><p>The hunters look at him in open disgust and disbelief, asking him how he could betray everything his family stands for. How he could fuck the enemy. How he could decide to kill humans for a bunch of abominations. </p><p>Chris doesn’t answer. They don’t want to hear it, don’t want to listen. They just want to see him bleed and die, because that’s what they are here for. They didn’t manage to catch one of the werewolves, but they caught the famous bastard hunter helping them. Close enough. </p><p>It starts with insults and ends with his blood dripping out of him and onto the tiles steadily. It forms a dark red sticky puddle under his bare feet. </p><p>When they grow bored with their cutting, they force Chris to drink yellow wolfsbane. It makes him gag and the hunters laugh. Chris can feel the wolfsbane burning his insides. Of course his captors do know what kind of wolfsbane is poisonous for humans, in certain amounts. </p><p>“Who chooses monsters over his own people should be treated just like them,” the hunters tell him right before they plunge a knife into Chris’ stomach, pack their torture devices and leave. </p><p>They slam the door and leave Chris dangling from the ceiling of the basement, his many wounds pulsing the blood out of him. The knife inside his stomach feels cold and hot at the same time. Every breath hurts like hell. Every movement does too. Chris closes his eyes and breathes shallowly. He doesn’t dare to hope for a sudden rescue. Slowly fading hope might hurt more than dying. </p><p>The human body can take a lot. Not as much as a werewolf’s, but it doesn’t give up so easily. Chris knows that. He knows he will have a lot of time until he’s given the mercy of numb darkness. </p><p>Time passes, his blood drips, and soon, Chris is mercifully numb with pain. </p><p>Not too long now, he thinks. Not too long …</p><p>Chris winces when the door abruptly opens, light flooding in and making him blink. The movement causes all his wounds to burn at once and he groans. He is so weak, he can’t even raise his head from his chest to glance at whoever decided to look at him in his misery.</p><p>Steps approach him, a shadow walks into the basement, and Chris thinks the hunters came back to finally finish their job. But the steps stop in front of him and he hears a gasp. The shadow says his name. Touches him. A gentle hand on his forehead. Chris doesn’t understand. </p><p>The ropes holding him are cut through all of a sudden and Chris sacks like a puppet with cut strings, falling right into the shadows’ arms. </p><p>All the blood floods back into Chris’ limbs and it is too much. The world sways. Everything is too hot and too cold. He wants to pass out … The Someone shakes him and makes an angry noise. Chris groans in pain. </p><p>“Don’t you dare, Argent. You are not going to die now.” </p><p>Chris knows that voice. He didn’t think he would hear it again. He forces his eyes to open, just to make sure this is real. The world is blurry, but he sees a glimpse of blue eyes and a worried face. </p><p>Peter … </p><p>Funny. Their roles were reversed only a few years ago. </p><p>Peter touches Chris’ forehead again and the pain trickles out of his body. He starts to feel all floaty. A heavenly sensation after hours of pain. Maybe, that is the moment he’ll die. When it doesn’t hurt, Chris muses. </p><p>He doesn’t die. He just continues to float on the edge between light and darkness. </p><p>Peter picks him up like he weighs nothing. The world sways again and Chris closes his eyes. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>When Chris comes to, he is laying on a table and he hears shreds of sentences. Voices mingling with each other, dancing around him.  </p><p>Peter. Scott and Deaton. Derek, sometimes. Stiles once. </p><p>“... lost too much blood.” </p><p>“A hospital would be better!” </p><p>“No, he …” </p><p>“What do you …”</p><p>“... is too weak. His body will collapse …”</p><p>“Do it, goddamnit!” </p><p>“... did it before …”</p><p>“I did it once! Only once! Accidentally, I can’t …”</p><p>“I swear I’ll kill you McCall and do it myself!” Peter roars and Chris winces. </p><p>“Peter!” </p><p>There is a slam and a shout. </p><p>“Stop it!” </p><p>Chris doesn’t understand what’s going on. He tries to, but it all swims away from him. There’s more noise, more words and cut off sentences. And a lot of shouting.  </p><p>Scott yells at Peter and Peter yells back and when Chris manages to get a glimpse, it seems like Derek is trying to keep them from snapping at each other, one hand on either wolf, his face determined.</p><p>And Chris suddenly thinks he gets what is going on. Peter wants Scott to bite Chris, and Scott doesn’t want to. He doesn’t know how to feel about it. His mind is so fuzzy. Maybe, Deaton gave him something for the pain, he muses. </p><p>But Chris is certain of one thing. He is not ready to die. He thought he was. But he was wrong. He wants to live. He wants to get back to the point where he and Peter tried to pick up the shards of their past relationship and set it back together somehow. It was damaged and brittle and there was roughness where once was gentleness, but it is … a good thing. One of the little good things Chris has left in life. And he is sure it is the same for Peter, who has just started to open up. Open up about nightmares and flashbacks, only when they were alone and it was night and Chris didn’t see his face. But he did open up. And it meant something. God. It all means something …<br/><br/>No. Chris doesn’t want to die now. If there is a chance ...</p><p>“Do it,” he says. Or he thinks he does. It might be nothing more but an echo of his thoughts. “Do it, Scott …”</p><p>There is stunned silence. </p><p>Chris closes his eyes again. He falls deeper into the abyss and groans when his body gives a weak aching pulse, one of its last attempts to stay in this world, he guesses. </p><p>There is more talking. Now, Chris can’t understand the words. It’s all just a mess of voices. </p><p>And suddenly, when he feels like he can’t hold on to life one moment longer, a sharp pain blooms in his wrist and rushes through his arm. It adds to the aching of his wounds, but … it is different. It makes him feel hot. There is a whimper and he only realises after a long moment, that it came from him. </p><p>A hand appears on his forehead. The pain ebbs away again, leaving him empty, on the edge of passing out. </p><p>“It’ll be alright. I promise.”  </p><p>The words follow him into the darkness. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Chris wakes up and the light is too bright. He blinks into it groaning, turning his head to the side on … on a pillow. He is laying on a bed now, the mattress almost too soft. The world is blurry first, but it steadily gets sharper again. Blurred colors get their contrasts and shapes back. </p><p>Scott sits on a chair beside the bed, looking half horrified, half worried. He’s chewing on his lower lip and avoids Chris’ eyes. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” the teenager says and sniffs. “I didn’t want to … I didn’t want you to die or something. I was scared it wouldn’t take and if I’d killed you, I bet Peter would really have killed me, and, and …” </p><p>“It’s okay, Scott,” Chris murmurs, stopping the teenager’s rambling. He slowly realises he’s really been bitten. Another hunter - <em> Victoria … </em> - would think about suicide now. Chris thinks about life instead. </p><p>He groans and carefully sits up. He looks at his wrist. There is no sign of a bite. Actually, his skin is smooth everywhere, evey wound disappeared. “So … it worked?” he asks, frowning. </p><p>Scott opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, Peter enters the room with crossed arms and a deep frown. He stops in front of the bed. The tension in the room is almost palpable. </p><p>Peter looks Chris up and down, his frown slowly disappearing. He seems to like what he sees. Peter bares his teeth at Scott who scurries out of the room, throwing a glance back over his shoulder and shaking his head. </p><p>Chris arches his brow. “Did you really try to force a teenager to bite me?” </p><p>Peter doesn’t say anything at first. “You didn’t buy me a new shirt yet,” he finally grumbles. “I liked the one you decided to tear apart because you were too impatient to open a button. Again.” </p><p>Chris can’t help it. He barks a laugh. He almost expects it to hurt, but it doesn’t. He feels great. It’s so Peter to find a reason other than “I was worried, I didn’t want you to die”, to explain why he almost killed a teenage Alpha werewolf who was reluctant to bite Chris. </p><p>The corners of Peter’s mouth twitch. He almost smiles. But only almost. “How do you feel?” he asks. </p><p>Chris focuses on his body. His senses. “Not that different.” </p><p>Peter nods. “You will, soon. The bite took fast, but your body first has to … accommodate.” </p><p>“So, I’m a werewolf?” Chris asks. </p><p>Peter hesitates. He nods curtly. “You are. Congrats.” He looks kind of worried now. Worried that Chris will not accept it? That it will change anything? </p><p>Chris tries a smile, although he’s still so tired, he just wants to go back to sleep. “Okay. That’s okay. I can’t wait to see how you see the world.” </p><p>Peter’s breath hitches. </p><p>Chris closes his eyes again. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The night is calm and mild. </p><p>Chris closes his eyes and inhales the air. He parts his lips to taste the forest’s scents and filter them, searching for the one scent he’s after. </p><p>He finds it and his heart beats faster. The wolf inside of him - young and almost overeager - can’t wait to run, to chase, to catch his prey. </p><p>But Chris forces himself to move slowly. Carefully. The forest floor is full of traps. A single branch can destroy everything. </p><p>Chris stalks forward, until the scent gets stronger and he can see his “prey” in front of him. He stops and cowers, preparing himself. And when he knows the wind carries his scent into another direction, he pounces. </p><p>Peter acts all surprised when he’s jumped at, but Chris knows he isn’t. He must have heard Chris coming before Chris had even caught sight of him, because Peter is a born werewolf and he has been living with his senses all his life. Still, Peter plays along, trying to get the upper hand and throw Chris on his back.<br/><br/>Chris snarls and lets the wolf come forward a bit more, tightening his grip as they roll over the forest floor. He still ends up pinned, Peter’s hand around his throat. Neon blue eyes stare down on him and Chris flashes his own back. </p><p>Peter smirks. “You’re getting faster. And smarter. Haven’t heard a branch crack.” </p><p>“I have a great teacher,” Chris says, smiling. </p><p>Peter scoffs, but he kisses Chris and Chris returns the kiss eagerly. When he feels Peter’s grip around his throat relaxing though, Chris grins and makes a sudden movement, throwing Peter off and pinning him, his wolf howling happily at the fact that he is on top now. </p><p>Peter looks surprised for a short moment, but then he laughs. “You get more cunning too.” </p><p>Chris takes that as a compliment. He lowers his head and kisses Peter again.</p>
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